


Coming Back

by 401



Series: Fixing Winter [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Flashbacks, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4375649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/401/pseuds/401
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes lives with Steve Rogers now, and on the first night in his apartment, the memories of Hydra get too much to block out. Luckily, Steve has a distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Back

**Author's Note:**

> The second work in my Fixing Winter series.

“The toilet’s just down there on the left and there’s a bunch of towels in that hamper,” Steve gestured around his apartment, his new roommate in tow.

Bucky Barnes was gripping the Captain’s bicep in sweaty, tense hands. His heart was pounding in his ears and no amount of the calming techniques Fury had taught him before discharging him from shield were helping him. He could see the boyish excitement on the taller man’s face. Steve was so desperately eager to introduce Bucky to his life, he had been for so many years, so Bucky felt a little guilty that all he could concentrate on was how it was all so far from the Hydra bunker he had been confined to just a week or so earlier. The apartment was dimly lit with the sort of orange light that makes you feel warmer. There was a cushion on the couch with an elephant on it and a magazine titled ‘How to use your Smartphone or Tablet’ on the coffee table. It had life, not just function.

“Help yourself to anything in the fridge too of course. Banner said your iron and sugar levels were pretty lousy so…Buck?” Steve stopped when he saw the look on the soldier’s face.

Bucky just nodded vacantly, tears tightening in his throat. The apartment had dissolved around him. The sound of gunshot and cars tyres and his own metal arm tearing into Steve’s shield throbbed through his head. The uncomfortable tension in his chest increased as the image of Steve’s face, contorted with confusion and pain as he had to fight the man he loved took its place in the flashback alongside Hydra and experiments and surgery and everything else. Bucky’s legs contracted, ready to sprint. The lack of real pain that her was so used to in a body that was periodically tortured, sometimes just to see what would happen made him feel numb. It made him aware of this vessel of a body that he had regained ownership of and he felt like a child who had been given the key to a truck. What was he supposed to do?

“Come back to me, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, Bucky shook his head emptily, “Remember where you are.”

Steve waited, watching as Bucky’s large, dark eyes followed invisible movements before falling still. With a shaky breath, he was back in the room.

Steve put his hands on Bucky’s hips and nudged him backward to the wall. Bucky let his head lull back against it and he sighed, heart still thudding with a rhythm that he could feel in his throat. Steve pressed his lips against the tip of Bucky’s nose and held them there until he could feel the muscles in the soldiers sides relax. He moved his feet forward until their thighs touched slightly and cupped Bucky’s face in his hands gently and kissed him slow but deep until his cheeks heated under his palms.

“I’m scared, Steve,” Bucky whispered into Rogers’ mouth, “I don’t know how to get it out of my head.”

Steve sighed. He would show him. Shifting Bucky’s hips forward a little, kissed his neck hard, bumping his forehead against the wall behind them. He smelt of shampoo and heat. The line of his jaw was shadowed with short stubble and the Captain could feel that the muscles underneath were tense. Steve moved his hand down to the fly of Bucky’s jeans, undoing them and pushing his hand between the coarse denim and the jersey of his boxers. He smiled as Bucky gasped, pressing into Steve’s touch.

“There we go,” Steve breathed into Bucky’s collar, “Stay this calm for me.”

Bucky nodded, the sound of Steve’s voice becoming clearer, easier to focus on. The memory of Hydra was becoming more and more distant as Steve moved his had up and down with a slow, grinding pace that was making Bucky’s bottom lip wobble.

He ran his hands up Steve’s back, being careful not to the let the cold metal one touch his bare skin. It didn’t look right against the tan skin and blonde hair, skin that was flushing at his neck. There was too much life under that skin to ruin it with cold metal. He put his flesh hand on the back of Cap’s head and parted his lips into the quickly deepening kiss, savouring the first arousal that he’d felt for years. He could feel heat pooling in his stomach and his boxers getting snugger with ever rub of Steve’s hand. His senses were clouding pleasantly and the flashback was falling away.

Steve pulled from the kiss and undid his own jeans. He was hard enough that the friction of the denim made his toes curl. He pulled Bucky’s t-shirt over his head and repeated with his own. He barely waited before dusting his lips over the hot skin with touches so light they made Bucky shiver.  
Barnes pulled Steve’s underpants lower to his thighs and rubbed his flesh hand up and down his shaft, biting his lip and smiling as Steve unravelled, pushing into his hand to intensify the pressure.

“I’ve missed this, Buck,” he groaned, “So much,”

Steve had. And right now the seam of thick pink scars that separated Bucky’s metal arm from the rest of his body, and the cold touch of titanium against his bare chest and the way Bucky looked so tired and beaten meant nothing. If Steve closed his eyes, Bucky sounded exactly like he used to, and his mouth felt the same against his lips. He wanted him just as badly as he did seventy years ago. Steve brushed his palm over the metal and sighed.  
“Ignore it,” Bucky said, pulling Steve from nostalgia, “Ignore it for me, please.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. He took to pushing Bucky’s jeans to the floor and kneeling in front of him. Bucky knew what Steve was about to do and it made his whole body throb with anxiety and arousal. The Captain took him into his mouth, bobbing his head forward until his nose touched the base of his shaft. Bucky made a noise in the back of his throat that Steve recognised.  
He sped up, feeling Bucky battle the urge to thrust into his mouth by arching his back against the wall. Steve pulled back a little and circled Bucky’s head with his tongue. The soldier’s knees wobbled and he was breathing like he’d run ten miles.

“Steve…you need to”-

Steve let go and stood up before Bucky finished. He led him into his bedroom by the hand, the metal one this time. It was his way of telling his that he was not scared.

Steve pushed Bucky back onto the bed and climbed on top of him. I kissed his neck and pressed him into the mattress before pulling his hip to turn him onto his front. He pressed his thumbs into the taut muscle of Bucky’s hips and felt him thrust forward impatiently.

“Ready?” Steve chuckled, sensing the urgency in Bucky’s movements.  
He pressed the tip of his shaft against Bucky’s entrance. They had done this before when they had lived together during the war, usually with Bucky on top. Steve was excited by the control he had.

Steve had to remind himself the slow and pace himself when the full ferocity of his arousal hit him. Bucky was tight, hot and resistant. He started to question how he had managed seventy years without this man. 

With his eyes closed and buried into Bucky’s shoulder, listening to the moans coming from the soldier underneath him, he was back in the Brooklyn apartment. It was all just as perfect, his asthma was just less of a problem.

“You’re so perfect,” Steve growled, thrusting hard enough to make a slapping noise against the rosy skin on the back of Bucky’s thighs, "So, so perfect."

The increase in speed made Bucky sob out a loud moan into the pillow.

He crested and plummeted headlong into orgasm, making a mess of Steve’s sheets and an even bigger mess of the headboard, which his metal hand tore into, splitting the wood with a loud crunch.  
Steve coughed out a laugh of surprise and followed him over the edge, moaning into Bucky’s neck.

“Shit, your bed…” Bucky panted, legs weak and trembling.

Steve shook his head dismissively and kissed him hard.

“Our bed, Buck.”

**Author's Note:**

> messages with ideas for more in this series or tips on how to improve my writing are welcome!


End file.
